BitterSweet
by Old-Fashioned Girl22
Summary: 1. Tea, definition: drink, infusion, tisane, brew, decoction. How does Kisshu get mixed into all this? Hopefully an in-progrss one-shot collection...


**Hi, fellow fictioners. First attempt at fanfiction in a while. This I just wrote in under an hour, then edited it. 3:00 in the morning and posting fanfiction. Jeez. Anyways, enjoy or saw your computer in half in rage. Either works.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**Copyright: But it is mine.**

**Haha, I just wanted to do that.**

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"Excuse me?"

The impudent voice was cold, if not snobby; Kisshu gave a smirk, fangs creeping out from the corners of his mouth. With an obvious sigh, he collapsed upon one of the chairs, expression becoming of one in much thirst.

"I need tea," he faked a gasp. "I've been walking for hours and hours on end, without a single drop of water to ease my dying throat." He covered his eyes with his hands, giving a raspy moan, making himself a pitiful object in her eyes.

Mint raised an eyebrow, not convinced. "And _why_ were you walking?" she asked, voice flat. "What happened to your ability to fly?"

Kisshu clenched his fists, knuckles turning white, trying to think of an answer. "Err…to… to get a gift!" he exclaimed, whisking the hands off his face and pressing them upon his chest. "To get a gift for a dear one," he lied, voice suddenly clear, trying to seem like he cared so greatly.

She took a sip of her tea. "And what gift is that?"

He licked his lips, his eyes clearly showing the longing for the tea in her hand. Just one sip and he would no longer thirst. Just one sip of the coveted tea, and he would cherish it. Just one sip of the immaculate, glorious tea, and he would die happy.

"Ahem."

After noticing her pointed gaze, he tore his attention away from the brown liquid lifting his eyes to her face. "Uh, could you repeat that?"

She sipped out of the porcelain cup, yet again. "Certainly, what gift have you succeeded in claiming?" Her eyes glinted with amusement. She did not miss the lingering look of yearning for her special tea.

He heaved a heavy sigh, ears drooping slightly. "That, I cannot tell." He smiled, his impish face mischievous. "It's a secret, and I am afraid that you, little birdy, might tweet."

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't call me that," her voice taking on a sharp undertone.

He grinned, smugness filling inside him for being able to annoy her in some way. "That I cannot do, little birdy, for it fits you," he explained in mock apology.

Her gaze grew hard, sapphire blue eyes narrowing into a glare "It is not for you to decide what fits me," she proclaimed, feeling rather superior.

"Ah, but it is, little birdy."

She stuck her nose in the air, pretentiously ignoring him. Seconds ticked by, each one battling the other on who would speak first.

Kisshu stared, not blinking, a smirk creeping across his features, leaving our poor heiress rather uncomfortable. What did he find so amusing? She averted her eyes, looking around at the café with sudden interest. Was that new paint on the walls?

His eyes twinkled mischievously, boring holes into her. Mint shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Could he see through her? She glared at him, daring him to insult her. His smirk only widened, nearly reaching his ears. It seemed like only his grin existed, taking up half his face. She shivered; what kind of man was he? She looked away, admitting defeat.

Kisshu looked away carelessly, as if it had no meaning to him. No doubt he was laughing on the inside.

With a pout, and a slight "humph", she took an angry sip of her tea, slamming it down on the table. "What was it that you needed, Kisshu?" she questioned placidly, despite ripping a biscuit in half morbidly.

He nearly purred, much to the Mint's distress. "I need tea, birdy."

"You seem quite fine without it."

"Don't be so cruel. Be a good little birdy, and offer me a cup, please."

She opened her mouth to reject, before closing it with an audible snap. She closed her eyes, recovering herself for a moment. Opening her eyes, she gave a soft smile. "Of course, Kisshu-kun," she said smoothly, taking the teapot and pouring its content into a cup.

Kisshu-kun? Her sudden change of manner alarmed him, but he brushed his worries away with a wave of his hand as she set the tea before him "Thank you, birdy," he quirked, stretching his legs under the table lazily.

"Milk?" she asked, expression innocent and pure of any treachery.

"Yes," he replied, voice proud.

She poured silently, and turned to him again.

Sugar?" tone sweet and forgiving.

"If you will, please."

"One spoon of sugar or two?"

"_Four_."

She stirred, then pushed the cup across the table surface. He nodded, pompously taking the cup into his hands. Kisshu raised it to his lips, only to be stopped by a gentle voice.

"Wait, Kisshu-kun."

He set his teacup down, eyeing her. "Yes?" he questioned, still haughty in his own glory.

She stood up from her seat, grasping the teapot in her small hands. Mint strode to his side, smiling down.

"What is it?" he asked, now swept up in her presence.

"Kisshu-kun…"

His smirk was disgustingly pretentious, while he grasped her arm seductively. "What is it, little birdy?"

She smiled, bending her knees to level with his face. "I want to give you something."

Kisshu licked his lips. Things were going to get hot.

She leaned her head forward, their noses nearly touching. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes in anticipation.

_**SPLASH!**_

"Take that, elf!"

Kisshu eyes snapped open. The teapot was now in his lap, the hot liquid flowing over him gleefully.

"Argh!" he yelped, pushing the teapot off his lap and unto the floor, making it crash into thousands of pieces. He gripped the front of his pants, holding it away from his burning thighs.

"Can't stand the heat, elf?" Mint taunted, her hands placed on hips.

"Don't call me that!"

"That I cannot do, elf, for it fits you," she mimicked, voice full of mockery. Mint laughed cruelly, sauntering away. Satisfaction radiated with every step.

He groaned painfully, and then sighed at his burning lap.

Things sure got hot, alright. Literally.

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**Uhhh, reviews are appreciated. Unless you're on some review strike and are protesting against reviewing, and waving signs around, AND chaining yourself to my house… So if you're not on strike, review please. That is, if you like it. If you don't, like I said, just saw your computer in half in rage. Either works.**


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